[center][sub][h1][img]https://i.imgur.com/L9t9h39.png[/img]
[b][color=yellow]I S S U E   O N E[/color]
[color=red]I S S U E   O N  E[/color][/b][/h1][/sub]
“Judo is the way to the most effective use of both physical and spiritual strength.” - Jigoro Kano[/center]

Central Park at five AM blurred past in a rush of green foliage and dark pavement. The fresh dew filled Luke’s nostrils and the early morning chirps of the park’s critters filled his ears. That, and the dulcet tones of Danny Rand’s voice.

[color=#efff08]“I don’t need your wushu chinese bullshit right now, Danny,”[/color] Luke said. The roadwork was taking its toll on him. Since Danny had turned up at Luke’s door weeks ago, they’d taken to training together. It wasn’t a smooth thing, finding a place in your new life for your childhood friend -- one who was supposed to be [i]dead[/i]. But training was the best thing for it, to work together in silence and adjust to each other’s presence. In theory it was silence.

[color=#20f547]“It’s [i]not[/i] wushu, it’s parapsychology. [i]Synchronicity[/i].”[/color] Danny’s breathing was lighter than Luke’s, but he had about fifty fewer pounds of muscle to worry about. A mile back he had mentioned something about yogic breathing and it reminded Luke of the way Danny used to brag about all the techniques he knew, because he was [i]just so good[/i] at martial arts. Never mind the fact that it was [i]really[/i] his parents money getting him into all those classes and teaching him all those extra things.

[color=#efff08]“Parapsych is so much better,”[/color] Luke snorted and pressed harder. Every slam of his sneakers into the concrete path rocked up through his legs, and he tried to use the sensation to drown out Danny’s droning explanation.

[color=#20f547]“When things happen soon after one another, and have no discernable connection, yet appear meaningfully related. For most people, at most times, it’s little things. You think of a song and you hear it when you next turn on the radio. You think of an old friend and soon see them unexpectedly…”[/color]

Luke laughed, and his sides stabbed at him for his trouble. [color=#efff08]“You trying to convince me we have some special connection, Rand?”[/color]

[color=#20f547]“I’m not [i]not[/i] suggesting it, but I’m thinking [i]bigger[/i] actually. Put it to you this way: ten days ago, some kid wrestler in a spider mask floors a three hundred pound champion with one strike. A week ago, a streak of horizontal lightning blasted through Central City. Yesterday, people saw a man in Metropolis actually [i]flying[/i] over the skyline.”[/color]

What was Danny trying to say? That the ‘rules’ had changed? Luke knew that better than anyone. He’d known it from the moment the needles broke his skin and filled his whole body with icy fire, so that he could never be broken again. It only took part way, the change was literally only skin deep. But that was enough to smash his way through guards, prisoners, and brick walls alike until he reached freedom. In his escape he’d taken handgun shots to the chest and they had actually [i]bounced off[/i]. It was impossible.

But he knew, from the deep bruises and the joint pain, it was [i]real[/i]. Every blow his unblemished skin had absorbed had certainly saved his life, but ravaged the muscles beneath. By the time the adrenaline wore out he collapsed two miles from the prison. Over the next six months he recovered and rebuilt his body from the ground up, making his way back to the city in small jumps, week by week. Here, now, back in the city with Danny was near the end of his training, putting on the finishing touches and achieving his final goals. But what did Danny know?

When Luke asked what had happened to him, Danny told some story about finding some place in the mountains where the ‘old masters’ lived. Luke took that to mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’. It figured. Kid probably had to watch his mom die out there. Mrs. Rand was one of the good ones, if there ever [i]were[/i] good rich people. She always brought a smile and fancy lunches for all the kids at the dojo. There was always a little extra for Luke, she’d say it was for all the ‘trouble’ Danny was giving him. It figured that even the ‘good’ ones still couldn’t help but try to make all their kid’s messes go away. Mr. Rand was a spiteful bastard whose lip would curl in disgust every time it was his turn to collect his hellion from the dojo and from all the unwashed masses inside. Mr. Rand had the good fortune to not be on the plane that took his wife’s life, and had dropped out of Luke’s attention almost entirely since then, except for the man’s habit of investment in independent fight promotions. Rand had never spoken a word about finding his son in the aftermath of the disappearance, but Danny showing up now told Luke the whole story.

Most likely, Danny got recovered by his father’s people somewhere out in the mountains while his dad milked the ‘disappearance’ for what it was worth. Probably shipped the kid around the world to whatever dojos would take his donations. But there had to have been some kind of fallout between them, and recently. Kid probably made some indiscretion in a foreign land and got left out in the cold. Danny had come to Luke with a face covered in a scraggly beard that hid most of his features. He smelled like he hadn’t showered in a year. He’d since shaven and bathed, but he still had the look of a man that had lived on the road for some time.

The first thing you noticed about Danny were his hands. Luke remembered Danny having little twigs for fingers that young Luke hoped would snap every time he hit the bag. But now his fingers and palms were thick and rough, almost as big as Luke’s. It had to be the product of hundreds or thousands of hours striking a leather coated makiwara, or from living it rough out in the sticks... Maybe Danny [i]had[/i] learned something out there. But he had a funny way of showing it, with his endless rants about eastern philosophy garbage. Luke was about to tell Danny to can it when he saw a man down along their path.

[color=#efff08]“Sweet Christmas,”[/color] Luke said. He saw Danny almost laugh at the expression before his eyes caught the figure approaching down the concrete paved path. Carl fucking Creel. The Crusher. You could tell it was Creel from a mile away, by the way his glistening bald head seemed to come to a fine point that caught the light of the early morning sky.

[color=gray]“Small city, Lucas,”[/color] Creel said. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He refused to break Luke’s gaze.

[color=#efff08]“What the hell are you doing here?”[/color] Luke asked. As far as he knew, Creel was still due another few years in lockup, back down in Georgia. Creel came to a stop a dozen paces away.

[color=gray]“A guy can’t visit the greatest city on earth?”[/color] Creel cocked his head at Luke. He laughed. [color=gray]“I’ll tell you this much -- your escape made a lot of opportunities for a lot of people. I just took advantage of one of them.”[/color]

Luke caught Danny gazing back and forth between them bemusedly. This was another one of the things about [i]new[/i] Danny, the way he’d look at you like a greened out stoner who was sure he was well beyond whatever you had to say.

[color=#efff08]“So you’re [i]not[/i] here for me?”[/color]

[color=gray]“Well, I wouldn’t say that. Two fighters meet, and there’s no one around to object. What else is there to do?”[/color] Creel was right. In this part of the park, at this time of day, it was dead. The only thing around besides the three of them, the grass, and the pavement, was a bench a half dozen yards away. If Creel made this a fight, he could clobber them and get away without attracting too much attention.

Luke was gassed. They had been driving hard for the last two hours and he was about at the end of his stamina. But this was only Crusher Creel. He could have done a hundred times what Danny did for hand conditioning and it wouldn’t change the simple fact that an all out bare knuckle strike would break against Luke’s skin.

[color=#efff08]“You really want me to teach you this lesson again?”[/color] Luke said. He took a step forward and his calf tightened into a charley horse. Luke dug his fingernails into his palm and felt them crack against his skin.

[color=gray]“I was thinking I’d teach you one this time, actually. Six months is a long time,”[/color] Creel took a knee. Luke raised an eyebrow.

[color=#20f547]“A lesson in forgiveness, I hope,”[/color] Danny chimed in. He pulled a yellow bandana out of his pocket.

[color=#efff08]“This guy isn’t someone you wanna play with, Danny,”[/color] Luke said. Over the last few weeks, Danny had shown himself to be a huge proponent of light sparring. To his mind, you avoided injury and developed all the same skills. It told Luke all he needed to know, that Danny had only ever been in ‘matches’.

 In prison, it was against the rules to teach any martial system, but that didn't stop the yard fights. Luke didn't get in many, but most of the ones he was in involved Creel. They were brawls where men laid their lives on the line, but Creel went harder than most anyone. The man was a savage striker, and had cracked Luke's skull more than once. On the outside the man had been a boxer with a powerful jab cross combo. But the last time Creel tried it on Luke, he shattered his hand on Luke’s new, unbreakable face.

[color=gray]“I don’t need to hear from the bench. But don’t worry -- I’ll show your friend here how to give a proper apology,”[/color] Creel said to Danny. He touched his right knuckle to the bare pavement. It was the same hand Luke had broken. Traces of gray appeared on the back of his hand and for an instant Luke thought Creel was going pale. It was the same shade and texture as the concrete, leaping up Creel’s arm and across his whole body. It was like he was absorbing the concrete straight out of the sidewalk, into the pores of his skin.

[color=gray][b]“Let’s see how tough you are in a [i]real[/i] street fight, Carl Lucas.”[/b][/color] Creel stood and grinned at him. Even his crooked smile, still missing the teeth Luke had taken from him, was the same gray pavement. Luke swallowed. There had to be stranger things in the world, Danny had just listed some of them, but it wasn’t often that an asshole from the clink turned himself into a jersey barrier that was ready to throw hands.

[color=#20f547]“Oh, Luke…”[/color] Danny had wrapped the bandana across his face so that it hid his eyes behind white lenses. He was smiling, [color=#20f547]“he really [i]is[/i] someone I want to play with.”[/color] He stepped in front of Luke and threw his arms wide, presenting himself. [color=#20f547]“How about trying me on for size?”[/color]

The stone faced man laughed. [color=gray][b]“Oh yeah? Fucking try it, new meat. I’ll take the warm up. Hit me a hundred times -- a thousand times -- I won’t give an inch. That’s a boxer’s guarantee. I’m unbreakable.”[/b][/color] He thumped a fist against his chest and it sounded like a sledgehammer.

[color=#20f547]“I don’t have to hit you. I just have to throw you. I’m going to beat you,”[/color] Danny said, [color=#20f547]“with only judo.”[/color] He swayed back, his challenge accepted, and brought his arms together, fist in hand.

[color=gray][b]“You’re funny, bandana,”[/b][/color] Creel snickered.

Danny bowed to Creel.

[color=gray][b]“What the fuck was that?”[/b][/color]

Luke’s chest tightened. Danny was [i]serious[/i]. Only judo. But this wasn’t a [i]spar[/i] anymore, like all the matches Luke and Danny had. Could he tell how serious Creel was? The stone smile was disappearing from his face, and he seemed to tighten across his whole body. It was like every facet of his concrete form, down to the black specs of his eyes hidden in the mass of his flesh, was a bull prepared to charge… and Danny insisted on waving the red cape.

[color=#20f547]“My name is Danny…”[/color] Danny assumed his pose, two open hands, one in front of the other, [color=#20f547]“Danny Rand, ninth dan black belt of the K’un Lun Kōdōkan. I’m thanking you for giving me the chance to improve my technique. I hope you will take this opportunity to improve yours.”[/color]

Luke knew the power in Creel’s hands. He could have cracked Danny’s head open like an egg [i]before[/i] his change. A ninth dan black belt or not (which sounded like [i]more[/i] Rand flavor bullshit), Luke had [i]seen[/i] Creel drop guys with just as much fancy martial arts training. It didn’t compare. He was about to watch Danny kill himself on Creel’s superhuman fists, and he couldn’t coax his damn leg to move.

[color=#efff08]“Danny…”[/color] was all he was able to get out before Creel charged and Danny moved. It was over. One swipe from the concrete cudgels of Creel’s hands would crush through Danny’s bones. He heard the noise before he registered what happened, the thunderous crackling of his old friend having his body shattered. He couldn’t look. Only…

[i]Creel[/i] had hit the ground. [i]What?[/i] Luke did a double take. He hadn’t seen it, whatever Danny had done. There he was, standing over Creel, mugging like an idiot, none the worse for wear, while the big man recovered.

[color=#20f547]“Maybe you can tell me…”[/color] Danny hopped backwards, avoiding a swipe from Creel’s forearm. [color=#20f547]“Why [i]are[/i] you here? In New York, I mean. Sure sounds like you’ve come a long way,”[/color] Danny sidestepped an uppercut as Creel launched himself to his feet. His dodges were crisp, but Creel’s moves were only half committed. Danny was way ahead of himself, to think he could just chat Creel up. He was on the knife’s edge.

[color=gray][b]“Same reason anybody who’s anybody is here, punk. [i]Meta-Brawl[/i].”[/b][/color] Creel said. His composure hadn’t shaken one measure. He was already adapting, sidling just out of Danny’s effective reach. Danny had to have gotten [i]lucky[/i] with his first move. Creel was a [i]professional[/i]. Luke had seen Danny try crazy things in their spars before; cede an opening, drop a block, and go for something ‘cute’ when they least expect it. They were just the kinds of things men like Creel worked day and night to iron out of their routines, to easily defend against  and crush upstarts without discipline. In the professional’s world, only truly practiced techniques and refined principles mattered. Yet here Danny was, pulling another crazy stunt.

[color=#20f547]“What’s a ‘Meta-Brawl’?”[/color] Danny tilted his head and lowered his shoulder. Danny was dangling his chin, his [i]end-it-in-one[/i] button, in front of a boxer like a shank of meat.

[color=gray][b]“One audition with powers like these, and I’m a shoe in for the big leagues. Night after night, I’ll get to face [i]real[/i] champions in [i]real[/i] fights. Not half rate dorks like you two,”[/b][/color] Creel said. He saw the opening and threw a cross. Danny bobbed under it by a centimeter, grabbing Creel’s leading shoulder and wrapping a hand around his waist. Danny turned and Creel tumbled over the smaller man’s hip and crashed to the ground. Luke realized Danny [i]lied[/i] to Creel, in a sense. Danny was relying on judo’s speciality, and he [i]was[/i] hitting Creel -- with the earth itself.

[color=#20f547]“You’re a man after my own heart, Creel,”[/color] Danny grinned at him while Creel brought himself to one knee. The concrete had cracked across Creel’s back and chest. A spider web of lines and tumbling pebbles defined his jaw.  [color=#20f547]“You can’t stop chasing the next challenge, can you?”[/color]

[color=gray][b]“And you can’t stop sticking your nose into fights that ain’t yours, huh kid?”[/b][/color] Creel stood and adjusted his guard, now presenting his shoulder first to Danny -- the Philly shell. Creel was on the backfoot and he knew it.

[color=#20f547]“I think I already get you… You’re not here for [i]revenge[/i] on Luke. You need to prove to yourself you can beat him. I’ve been there.”[/color]

[color=gray][b]“Get [i]this[/i]!”[/b][/color] Creel stepped in and threw a combination. Flicker jab, cross, straight, flicker, flicker, uppercut, no matter which move Danny weaved between them. Creel might as well have been in slow motion. Somehow Danny the punk was moving like he’d fought Creel ten thousand times. Was Danny that familiar with [i]boxing[/i] too? Where did he find the time?

But Creel saw it too. Danny knew boxing too well. Creel turned out of his defensive stance and flicked his [i]knee[/i] up. It wasn’t a practiced motion, totally outside the scope of boxing, but it was enough to set off Danny’s reflexes.

Danny moved to dodge the surprise knee, but it was a feint. Creel’s real straight rocked into Danny’s cheek and he stumbled backwards. Danny spat out a mouthful of blood and Luke cringed for him. Danny smiled.

[color=#20f547]“Incredible. You’re just incredible, Creel,”[/color] Danny flowed back into his stance. Creel bellowed and the dance began again.

It hit Luke like one of Creel’s crosses, just what Danny meant about [i]synchronicity[/i]. He wasn’t talking about something as small as the pair of them, or something so insignificant as unbreakable skin or a body made of concrete. He was already thinking farther ahead than Luke could have dreamed: he was thinking about a world where people could [i]climb[/i] again.

Creel was the biggest guy on the prison yard by almost a full head, rippling with muscle and bristling with a decade of experience. He didn’t [i]need[/i] to train any harder, he was already the best. Until Luke arrived, a man almost as large and with a mountain more technique. Formal martial instruction of any kind was banned, but that didn’t stop the muscle shearing workouts and the breathless, whispered discussions of anything that could give a man an edge. Soon it spread beyond Creel and Luke, even the inmates who had never seen their fights knew what was [i]possible[/i]. The [i]ceiling[/i] had been raised.

It was a truth well beyond the scope of one prison. In the world of sprinters it was the ten second barrier, in the history of high jumpers it was the two meter mark. One person achieves something thought impossible, and dozens come out of the woodwork with the talent to claim the same achievement. What would happen in a world where the ceiling wasn’t raised by a tenth of a second or a handful of centimeters, but to the dizzying height of a [i]Superman[/i]?

Danny was living proof that a man, a lone judoka, [i]could[/i] climb in that world, and knock on the ceiling alongside the titans. And he was climbing [i]fast[/i]. Creel hit the pavement again and split the air with a sickening ‘CRUNCH’.

Creel had to be at his limit. He was actually dragging himself along the ground now, arms shaking. But his focus hadn’t dropped, his bullish brow stayed firm as he clawed across the concrete, hardened fingers leaving furrows in their wake. The man was beaten, but he didn’t know it yet. Danny just had to… [i]The bench.[/i] Luke had forgotten about it, but now it was only a foot away from Creel, metallic surface gleaming in the early morning sun.

Luke couldn’t move. His legs wailed at him, but there was no way he could make it to the bench and heave it away before Creel could get there. If Creel could coat his body with metal, just like the pavement, the fight really would be [i]over[/i]. But Danny saw it coming.

[color=#20f547]“No.”[/color] Danny grabbed Creel’s wrist an inch from the bench and twisted. Creel’s determination dropped and he scurried along like a panicked animal with Danny’s flowing motions, around and away from the bench.

Danny laughed and released him, the concrete beast flopped on the ground, rock on rock cracking together in a drum roll. [color=#20f547]“I’ll admit, Creel, you made me break my promise. You made me use aikido, and you surprised me again. You’re a clever guy! Most people who haven’t seen that move before would end up letting me break their arms. But let’s finish this, huh? I’ve got one last judo doozy for ya, I think you’ll like it.”[/color]

As Creel staggered to his feet for the last time, all Luke could think about was how small the big man was before Danny. Luke wasn’t looking at the brash boy from Pop’s anymore, he wasn’t a spoiled bullshido brat, and he wasn’t just a judoka. Judo, boxing, aikido, and more besides… He was a [i]weapon[/i].

Danny danced inside Creel’s guard and hooked his left leg around the concrete man’s right ankle. His left hand found its place under Creel’s chin, and he tripped the titan over his calf. Danny jerked and brought his whole weight up and through his palm as soon as Creel’s feet left the ground, the sheer impact shattered a whole slab of sidewalk as Creel’s head smashed into the dirt beneath.

Creel looked like his face had been in the oven too long, puffed up and cracked open all over to reveal the punished, bruised skin beneath. The man was out cold, and the concrete armor was beginning to fade away, dropping off from his skin in chunks.

[color=#20f547]“Yeah…”[/color] Danny nodded to himself, [color=#20f547]“he’d like to learn that one for sure. If he remembers it when he wakes up.”[/color] He wiped blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then went fishing in his pocket. He pulled out a business card, one from Pop’s, and threw it onto Creel’s slowly rising and falling chest.

[color=#efff08]“Do you have a death wish? You’re giving our address to a guy who wants to kick [i]both[/i] our asses?”[/color]

[color=#20f547]“I want to know more about this ‘Meta-Brawl’ thing…”[/color] Danny pointed at the card, [color=#20f547]“and that’s a way to find out.”[/color]

[color=#efff08]“There have got to be easier ways to find out than inviting [i]this[/i] guy to our place.”[/color]

[color=#20f547]“Yeah. But our gym needs more students if we want to make rent. He has potential.”[/color]

[color=#efff08]“The potential to kill us both.”[/color]

[color=#20f547]“Or, the potential to be one of the best sparring partners we’ve ever had. With the proper application of will and kindness, a great enemy can become a great friend.”[/color]

[color=#efff08]“Okay, [i]that[/i] sounds like wushu chinese bullshit.”[/color]



[hider= Author’s Notes]
A bonus section, dear readers! I thought it would be neat to include these.

-My Luke swears. I know its not vanilla, but its just the voice I found for him. I tried a couple times to remove them but it never felt right. And anyway, I think it reflects his changed origin a touch better. He's still a pastor's son, but a born-and-raised Georgia boy he ain't.

-Danny’s initial synchronicity rant is in part a reference to the start of the 2018 Baki anime, but I thought it would also be a nice way to lampshade the emergence. The back half of it, Luke’s part, is also a bit of a reference to Kengan Omega.

-In both this post and my sample I’ve had Danny using Japanese martial arts. This is in part because I’m more familiar with those systems, and in part because I’m still thinking about what the precise components of the K’un Lun style are. I think Danny knows all kinds of martial arts, but I want to pin down what’s special stylistically about K’un Lun’s particular permutation of kung fu. Plus, its one of my goals to try and have this story show as many unique styles as possible.

-Judo nerds will know that the Kōdōkan is the name of the oldest Judo dojo, founded by Jigoro Kano, founder of Judo. In this case, I imagine several of his students (if not Kano himself) have wound up in K’un Lun over the years, and established their own branch of the Kōdōkan within.

-And martial arts nerds will also know that a 9th dan is kind of ridiculous, especially on a man cross training so many arts. A dan is typically only given after a fairly extreme amount of time once already at the black belt level, but I figured I could handwave and give Danny this achievement because he’s supposed to be a special martial arts wizard or whatever.
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